


Happy Hour

by KelpieChaos



Series: Dick-or-Treat 2019 [6]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom!Ed, Bottoming from the Top, Ed doesn't know how to Emotions, M/M, Post-Canon, Riding, Roy's a goddamn dramatic drunk but who didn't know that already, Top!Roy, but it's okay; he figures it out, this is like four different levels of AU; the notes at the beginning explain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 15:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18640684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpieChaos/pseuds/KelpieChaos
Summary: It’s just Ed’s luck that he’s the only one sober enough to walk his absolutely shit-faced C.O. back home. It’s probably still luck that keeps him there overnight. If luck’s name was Roy Mustang, that is.





	Happy Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! This runs under a few AU assumptions:  
> -Ed and Winry aren't together.  
> -Ed didn't trade his alchemy for Al, and Al didn't trade his seal for Ed's arm. So Ed's got both his alchemy and automail arm. Al's still got his body though. Maybe Hohenheim traded his last bits of philosopher stone for it before Ed could stop him.  
> -Ed didn't leave the military, and he stayed under Roy's command.  
> -There aren't fraternization laws preventing officers getting with their subordinates. Could I just ignore these without stating this? Sure. But the boys wouldn't let me write this until I had resolved that this wasn't an issue. Goddamn responsible characters.  
> -Ed and Al got an apartment in Central together, since Ed was working there.
> 
> Cinereous, I'm so sorry I'm a whole two fucking days later than I said I would be, the boys just wouldn't let this be any shorter.

 

It’s just Ed’s luck that he’s the only one sober enough to walk his _absolutely shit-faced_ C.O. back home. Of course Havoc and Breda were both drunk as shit themselves, and Fuery, Falman, and Hawkeye hadn’t come with for their usual ‘thank fuck it’s Friday’ bar party. Not that Ed himself wasn’t considerably tipsy. But he, unlike _some_ idiot Generals, had at least been watching how much he drank. And could still walk in a straight line. And hold coherent conversation.

Though getting Mustang up and moving was proving to be difficult enough.

“Come on, Bastard, it’s time to go.” Ed stood at the end of the table, hands on hips as he stared down at Mustang’s slumped form. “Hey! If you fall asleep here, I’m leaving you!”

“’m not fall’n’… ‘sleep,” Mustang muttered, eyes closed and head pillowed on his arms.

“Like fuck you aren’t,” Ed snapped back. He pulled on Mustang’s arm, forcing him to either sit up or fall over.

He sat up, thankfully. It would have been even harder to get him off the ground. At least sitting it would only take one motion to stand up. Hopefully.

“Okay, you’re gonna put your arm over my shoulders and then we’re gonna stand up. Got that?”

Mustang just hummed placidly, allowing Ed to maneuver himself under his shoulder.

“We’re standing on three, you hear?” Ed hoped he did. Trying to stand without his help would be hell. “Here we go: one, two, three!”

Ed heaved himself up, pulling Mustang with him. Apparently he wasn’t completely out, because he had even helped a little, if not becoming a useless sack of potatoes counted as helping. Ed huffed out a breath as he took pretty much all of Mustang’s weight. Fuck, how was he so heavy? Did he stuff his blues with weights or something?

“Hey, asshole,” Ed gently shifted Mustang over his own feet instead of collapsed on top of him. Not that it was much on top of. Next to. Leaning on. They were practically the same height, whatever. “Take some of your own fat-ass weight.”

Finally, Mustang seemed to get the memo. Scrunching his nose in a ridiculously focused expression, he braced himself against Ed’s shoulders and found some semblance of drunken balance. He shot a pleased grin at Ed.

“Yeah, yeah, good job, now let’s get going. I’d like to be home _before_ the sun rises.”

Ed shuffled a step towards the door, Mustang lurching half a second behind him. Slowly, they made their shuffled way outside, the crisp autumn air playing with their jackets. As soon as the cold wind hit them, Mustang seemed to wake up some more, taking more of his own weight. Though he also stepped closer to Ed, nearly tripping him, so it wasn’t really much of a benefit. Rolling his eyes, Ed just maneuvered them so that he could walk again. Not much of a point yelling at the bastard for walking wrong when it was lucky he could walk at all. And it’s not like they were going far. Like, six blocks? Something like that, he didn’t know exactly off the top of his head.

General Bastard probably knew exactly where he and Al lived. He was stupid about details like that. Come to think about it, didn’t Hawkeye send flowers that one time Al’s kitten got sick? So at least she knew where they lived. And if she knew then Mustang definitely did as well. He’d say something about paranoid military idiots, but, well, he kinda was one of those now too. Turns out saving the world from a government funded apocalypse does things to your trust of the military. Go figure.

“Hey, Ed… Edward.”

Blinking out of his thoughts, Ed glanced at Mustang. He was staring at him, eyes completely black in the dim streetlight. He knew those eyes were actually a dark blue-grey, but you had to be real close to actually see the difference. Not that Ed had ever been that close. Nope, and even if he had it had been a total accident. It wasn’t his fault that Havoc had left his goddamn typewriter on the floor and he’d tripped and Mustang had just caught him by instinct since he was right there. Even if he had had his nose in a book instead of watching where he was going. Absolutely not his fault.

Ed had to rip his focus back to the street. They’d made it to the end of the second block. Had he responded yet? Fuck, he hadn’t, had he?

“What?”

Mustang hummed, focus unwavering from Ed’s face. “Why’re you so nice to me?”

“ _What_?” Ed lurched to a stop, turning to face his apparently drunker than he thought C.O. “I’m not _nice_ to you, why the fuck do you think I’m _nice_?!”

Laughter met his demand, and he couldn’t help but admit that yeah, sure, all those secretaries weren’t wrong when they said that Mustang looked good laughing. His face gets all crinkly, but like, in the way where you can tell that he smiles a lot. And he puts all of himself into it, not just his mouth like some of the other fake ass military shitheads. Not that it meant anything though. At this point saying all that is just objective observation of nature. Or something.

“You always get your paperwork in, and it’s _done_ , and you… and you n’ver _actually_ make fun of my dates like th’ others do, and – and you yell at me t’ do my work so Riza doesn’t get mad… _and_ you talk with me ‘bout alchemy. And _now_ you’re helpin’ me _home_ ‘cause you’re _nice_.”

Through the whole speech, Roy had gotten more passionate, slurring his words in excitement and counting each point on his fingers, then waving them in Ed’s face. He obviously thought that his points were irrefutable.

“What… _the fuck?_ ” Ed couldn’t believe he thought any of that was valid. “You idiot, it’s _my job_ to get my paperwork in complete, and it makes my job easier when you do _your_ job!” He scoffed and started dragging Mustang back down the street. If he was gonna be this stupid he can at least to it in his bed where Ed doesn’t have to listen. “Besides, I’m the only other alchemist you know and like, and I’m smarter than you, so of course we’re gonna talk alchemy. Though I will admit not all of your ideas are objectively terrible. They’re just usually wrong as fuck. And-“ Ed raised his voice when it looked like the bastard was going to interrupt. “I’m the one taking you home now because you were a goddamn idiot who drank himself under the table and so was everyone else but me. I’m not doing this because I’m _nice_ , I’m doing it because you’re an _idiot_.”

“Oh…”

Ed was determined not to look at his stupid as dirt C.O. before they got to his house, but that just sounded so pathetic. And now Mustang was dragging his feet and leaning on him and making this just that much harder and really what the fuck was his problem?

It almost seemed like a different person was next to him. Gone was the pleased, laughing heartbreaker, who looked at him like he was the only thing he could see. Replacing him was a despondent, dreary drunk, who avoided meeting his eye and focused on needing as little help as possible.

Did…he do that? Did Mustang really think that highly of him? It’s not like he said anything special about Ed, most of it really was just his job, and the rest was common enough decency.

“Ed?”

His name was soft, like Mustang wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to say it. Ed paused, trying to catch his eye, but all that he got was a flash of a frown and a mess of dark hair.

“Can I tell you a secret? Riza told me not to tell you, but I want to. I think you- Can I tell you?”

There was something in his voice that Ed couldn’t figure out. Like he almost was excited - or nervous maybe? - but also like he wasn’t sure if he should share. He didn’t know what he wanted, for Ed to say yes? Or no? And if Riza told him not to share, then maybe it was better if he said no?

But now Mustang was looking at him, and even he could see that whatever it was was eating at him.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead.” Ed forced himself to keep the somber gaze, and to attempt a normal troublemaking grin. “But if she kills you for it, don’t blame me.”

Mustang matched his grin. It didn’t look at all like the one from earlier. Ed wanted that one back. He liked the laughter and the excitement much more than this oppressive melancholy.

“She won’t kill me,” he murmured. “You might though.” He caught Ed’s hand, holding it like he was desperate for any connection he could have. “Promise you won’t kill me?”

Ed would say almost anything to get those sad eyes to go away. But it’s not like he could let _Mustang_ know that. He let him keep ahold of his hand, but rolled his eyes like this was any other demand made of him during work. “Whatever, bastard,” he made himself say, “Yeah, sure, I promise. I won’t kill you for whatever secret it is you’ve got.”

A small nod, and Mustang took a deep breath and braced himself, like saying this would take every inch of courage he had. And Ed knew just how much courage this man had. If he had to prepare himself this much for it, how bad was the secret? Al flashed through his thoughts, Winry, Granny, Teacher, the team, was something wrong with one of them?

“I think I love you.”

…What. He just stared at Mustang. He loved him? That was ridiculous. Sure, Al and Win and Granny loved him, but they were family. All he’d ever been to Mustang was a pain in his ass.

Shuffling slightly, and dropping his eyes away, Mustang just continued talking, like Ed hadn’t completely frozen at his first ridiculous statement.

“You’re really smart, and your confidence in your skills is extraordinary. And you’re, well, maybe not nice to _me_ , but you’re nice to other people and it’s amazing that someone who’s lived as rough a life as you is still capable of that much kindness. And your conviction to doing the right thing is commendable and inspiring at the same time, and you always go out of your way to hold others to the same standard you give yourself and make everyone better, make _me_ better, and you always give people your honest opinion even if you really should stay quiet, which is annoying sometimes but more often amusing and a necessary breath of fresh air.” He finally took a breath, but Ed didn’t even know how to respond. “And,” he continued, softer, like this was the real secret all along, “I think you’re beautiful, and I miss you when you’re gone, and I wish you didn’t dislike me as much as you apparently do because it hurts that I care for you so much and you can’t even stand my face outside of work.”

That was…not even the least bit true. Well, okay Ed could admit most of the beginning stuff was decently not false, he was pretty smart and had a bunch of skills running around trying to stay alive had given him. And he did pretty regularly yell at people for taking shortcuts or making decisions that could hurt others. Even the higher ups. So that wasn’t wrong either. But he wasn’t the beautiful one here, not with the automail still all over and all his goddamn scars, not compared to Roy’s black and white elegance. And Ed was the one who found himself coming up with points and rebuttals long after their arguments ended, wishing he was still leaning over the table in the office with all their notes scattered around.

And he certainly didn’t hate the bastard.

But Mustang just stood there, still avoiding looking at him, still acting like his world was coming to an end, if only Ed would say the word.

Well, fuck that. Al had been making fun of him for his supposed crush on the idiot since he was like fifteen. Maybe he wasn’t just shooting shit.

Only one way to find out.

He reached out with his free hand, grabbing Mustang’s overcoat’s collar. He saw a flash of weary acceptance on his face – what, did he think Ed was gonna punch him? Stupid – before their faces were too close. He pulled Roy forwards, okay and maybe a little down the fucker had like an inch on him still, and shoved their lips together. It wasn’t his best kiss, but seeing how the bastard had frozen, Ed thought it wasn’t half bad. Roy was warm, and there was just a hint of the scotch he’d drunk still on his lips. It wasn’t his favorite liquor, but on Roy he had to admit it tasted perfect. He chased the flavor deeper, tracing his tongue against the sharp edge of teeth, the smooth ridge of his palette.

Then Roy came alive.

Ed found himself enveloped in a tight embrace, strong arms circling his waist and supporting him. The lips under his relaxed, caught his bottom lip for a quick tease, then resettled at a better angle. He’d been holding his breath before for courage, but suddenly he found that he had none at all, the air stolen from his lungs as Roy kissed him back.

And _fuck_ , if he was this good a kisser drunk, Ed didn’t think he could survive him sober.

A small noise escaped into the cold air as they broke apart, only far enough to see the other, their breath caressing each other’s faces. Ed stared at Roy, watched as he stared back. He almost couldn’t believe that he had just done that, but he didn’t regret it. Now at least the morose look was gone.

“Ed…?” Roy looked so goddamn hopeful, eyes wide and face flushed. His arms tensed and relaxed around Ed, like he didn’t know if he could pull him closer or if he should let go.

He couldn’t meet that gaze. Instead, he carefully smoothed out the wrinkles in Roy’s lapel. His metal fingers couldn’t quite get it smooth, and he ended up frowning at the gloved hand absently. He didn’t have the answer Roy wanted. Or at least, he wasn’t sure he did. And he didn’t want to give Roy something fake; he deserved something better than that. But he could give him _something_ , right?

“I… I can’t say that I love you back,” Ed started, feeling Roy flinch under his hands. “But that’s ‘cause I don’t think I know what those words mean. I mean, I love Al and Win and Granny, but we’re family, I gotta love them. Or, uh, I suppose I don’t ‘cause fuck Hohenheim, but…” Damn his nervous babbling, he needed to get back to his goddamn point. “Anyway, all that shit about me you said before? I think that maybe I might think that too, but, ya know, ‘bout you, not me, obviously. Like, the crap about…about conviction and confidence and – and, fuck, you bein’ pretty and shit. So… so if that’s good enough for you, then maybe this is worth an attempt?” He could feel how red his face was. Fuck, why was he even trying? Even if Roy did like him, he still deserved better than an emotionally stunted cripple like him. He should just shut up, Roy was probably just waiting for him to stop so he could tell him this was all a joke or something and he could go suffocate his shame in one of Al’s furry vomit monsters.

“I think that’s worth more than just an attempt.”

Ed’s neck cracked he snapped his head up so fast. Roy was looking at him like he’d seen Hughes look at his wife so long ago. Soft and sappy and like he’d want to look at nothing else ever again. It was embarrassing as fuck, but he found that he didn’t want Roy to look away either. It was nice being the focus of that attention.

Roy tucked a loose strand of hair away from his face, tracing the shape of his jaw after. “Ed, I’ve wanted you for years, and liked you as a friend for longer. If you’re giving me a chance? I’m going to take it. And I’m going to keep taking it until you’re sick of me. Which hopefully you’ll never be.” He blinked and frowned off to the middle distance for a second, then focused back on Ed. “Can I preemptively apologize for small annoyances and petty arguments? I feel like I should be able to do that, often as we inflict them on each other. Can you only get sick of me for like, the big stuff?”

“The big stuff?” Apparently, serious Roy was gone again, and silly, drunk Roy back in charge. Ed couldn’t say it was a bad thing.

“Yeah, like…” He obviously thought hard, lighting up as he figured out what would constitute something big. “Like if I forgot to call you and say happy birthday because I had meetings all day and forgot to make dinner reservations too so you had no well wishes or birthday food.”

Laughing, Ed started them walking back towards Roy’s house. They still had a couple more blocks to go, and now Ed wanted to stay the night. “I’m pretty sure that I wouldn’t get sick of your shit just because you were too busy doing your goddamn job. Besides, I work there too, so it’s not like you wouldn’t see me.”

“Oh. That’s true.” Roy took hold of his hand and started swinging them out of synch with their steps. “Does this mean I can call you names?”

“The fuck you mean, names?” He forced their hands back into synch; it was hard enough walking a drunk man home when he wasn’t also making it harder for him to walk right. “If you call me short, I’m still gonna punch you, dating or no.” Though he might use the softer hand since they were apparently dating now. Not that he was going to tell Roy that.

“No, no, no, not that. Though you’re not really that short anymore. Just a little bit less tall than me now.” He bumped their shoulders together, staying close after. “No, I mean like, can I call you darling? My love? Golden sun brightening my life?”

“Ew, gross, and fuck no, what the hell, Mustang!” Ed shot a glare up at his… was boyfriend the right word? His date? Shit, he was so bad at this.

“But, Ed, how will I make sure everyone knows how much I adore you if I can’t call you lovey names?”

They were so close to Roy’s house. He could see the porch of the small townhouse, not even a hundred feet ahead. He hurried up, pulling Roy behind him. “I’m sure you can figure it out. Later. Right now I want to get inside and celebrate.”

A long groan floated from behind him, and Ed smirked.

“See, you’re brilliant. I love your brain. It has such good ideas. Sometimes.”

Ed scoffed. “Sometimes? When don’t I have amazingly fantabulous ideas?”

“When you blow buildings up. You should stop doing that, it’s expensive.”

“Hey!” He spun around to point a finger in Roy’s face. “That’s not my fault! I’m always careful not to damage the structural integrity of the buildings. It’s the goddamn rogue alchemists that always bring the roof down on us! You’re lucky I stop them fast before they can wreck more destruction.”

Roy considered that, then nodded airily. “I suppose that even you would get distracted by an inferior alchemist long enough to let a building fall down now and again.”

Growling under his breath, Ed let it go and spun back around, dragging Roy up the porch steps. He heard Roy start fumbling for his keys and rolled his eyes. Clapping, he popped the lock open and pushed into the entranceway. “Don’t worry, I can fix it,” he called back. “Where’s your shoe rack? I’m not cleaning the mud these shoes drag in.”

“Just drop them wherever.” Roy let his own shoes thud onto the wood flooring, stretching his newly freed toes. There was a hole in his standard grey socks, spanning the entire right heel.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Ed responded. He placed his shoes next to Roy’s and followed him into the living room. “Now, I heard through the grapevine that you have a ridiculously nice bed. And rumor is that you’ve got something to celebrate.”

“I suppose you want to see the truth of those tales?”

His smirk was playful enough Ed was actually considering the couch, but really the bed would be so much better.

“And if I did?”

“Why, then,” Roy purred, “It’s right this way.”

He led Ed up a narrow staircase, then into the first door on their left. Ed caught a glimpse of three other doors in the hallway, presumably a closet, guest room, and spare bathroom. When he turned to examine the master bedroom, he froze. The bed was _massive_. It could easily have fit Al back when he was still in armor. Why the _fuck_ did Roy have that all for himself?

“Does it live up to the rumors?”

Ed tore his eyes away from the monstrosity of a bed, finding where Roy was changing out of his uniform. Or, more accurately, stripping. His chest was bare, and he was working on removing the dumbass butt skirt they were forced to wear. The cauterization scar where Lust punctured him was huge and angry looking, and it occurred to Ed that this was the first time he’d actually seen it. Al had told him what happened at Laboratory 3 afterwards, but since Roy had been fine by then he hadn’t given it much thought. It looked like they were in the same place though, the scar from the beam for him and that scar for Roy. Funny how things happen like that.

“Is it too much?”

Roy had stopped, one hand hovering over his scar. Shit, he’d been staring, hadn’t he? Striding forwards, Ed yanked off his jacket and shirt, throwing them on the floor. He stopped a couple steps away, hands on his hips as he calmly met Roy’s shocked gaze.

“Not unless mine is too much for you.”

He stood still as Roy’s hand reached out, hesitating before placing gentle fingers in the middle of the scar. Ed could feel dull pressure where they connected, but the nerves were way too fucked to actually feel the touch properly.

“What…? How did you…?”

“How did I get this?” Ed laughed, though it wasn’t the happy, lighthearted sound of before. “Let’s just say Kimblee’s a bitch and I’ve used human transmutation on more than just a pile of ingredients.”

“Wait, you… Yourself?” Roy stepped closer, hand smoothing over the scar tissue like he could protect Ed from the injury that caused it.

“Yeah, shaved a few years off my life probably, but at least it didn’t end at fifteen. And hey, we match.”

Blinking, Roy considered their scars, gaze jumping from Ed to his own stomach and back. “So we do.”

“Anyway, it’s not like it’s even close to as impressive as Win’s work at the automail ports.” Ed knocked his knuckles on his thigh, letting the click of bone on metal ring out.

“Oh?” The concern in those dark eyes was overtaken by a mischievous smirk. “Is that an invitation to investigate?”

Ed grinned back. “Think of it more as a dare.” He stepped backwards, baiting Roy towards the bed. “Though it might be hard to examine with all this cloth in the way.”

“I think I can take care of that.”

The words rumbled between them like thunder before a storm, and Ed had just long enough to anticipate before Roy surged forwards, throwing them both amidst pillows and sheets. His gasp was cut off, Roy taking his mouth in a hard kiss. Pressed into the mattress by strong hands and heavy warmth, Ed could only ride along, desperate for more and already drowning. He twisted one hand in soft black hair, the other trying not to press bruises into pale skin. It was always so much harder to know how hard he was holding with the automail when he couldn’t look. But there was no way he was pulling back from _this_.

Hands at his belt ripped another gasp from him, and Ed lifted his hips as well he could with Roy in the way. His pants and underwear were shoved down, just far enough for the port on his thigh to be exposed. Warm fingers traced the edge of the metal. The nerves there frizted, some dull and insensate and others hypersensitive and sparking sensation. Shuddering, Ed barely noticed when Roy started trailing wet kisses and sharp nips down his throat, across his chest. Teeth teasing at the scars around his shoulder port dragged a low moan from him, the doubled sensation overwhelming and heat racing through him. With a few final nips, Roy moved on, continuing his exploration down each line of Ed’s stomach, tracing the edges of his muscles with warm tongue and soft lips.

Ed was going insane.

“R-Roy.” The word was bitten off, barely pushed out by lungs busy with heaving pants and past a throat full of sharp whines. “Roy, stop – _ah!_ – stop fuckin’ _teasing_ al- _fuck_ already!”

Roy hummed in response, the vibration sinking into the hollow of Ed’s hip, where Roy was pressing delicate kisses into the thin skin. Raising his head, he licked his lips, meeting Ed’s eyes with a smug, lidded gaze. “But Ed, my dearest, I’ve been waiting so long to savor you so. You wouldn’t deprive me of this, would you?”

His face was barely an inch from his cock, and his breath fanned over it as he spoke. He was doing that on purpose, Ed just knew. Ed let his head fall back to the bed, scrunching his eyes shut and clenching the sheets in his fists as he tried to wrest control back over himself. Going off because Roy breathed on him was _not_ how he wanted this to end.

“Fuck, bastard, just fucking _fuck me_ already!”

Ed could feel Roy’s smile where he pressed it into his thigh. A quick nuzzle, and the bed shifted as he, presumably, sat up.

“Your wish is my command.”

Roy moved back, pulling Ed’s clothes fully off him. There was a moment of stillness, and Ed forced himself to breathe through it. Just because Roy stopped didn’t mean he was gonna _stop_. Especially ‘cause he’d just fuckin’ agreed to keep going. Though the space was nice, let him calm down a bit, drift away from the edge. Quiet steps rounded the bed, the sound of a drawer opening and closing making Ed swallow thickly. Cloth shifting, then hot skin pressed against him, Roy pulling his thighs over his own newly bare ones.

“Ed? Can you look at me, please?”

One eye squinted open, the other quickly following as he found Roy leaning directly over him. Did he want him to say it again? It was embarrassing enough asking for it when all doped up on pleasure, but now that he wasn’t going mad with it, he wasn’t sure if he could do it again.

But all Roy did was watch his expression for a couple seconds, then smile and lean down for a soft kiss. His hands massaged at the tops of his thighs, and Ed couldn’t help but push up into it. Roy’s hands were hot against his skin. Ed wanted more of that heat. He nipped at the plush lips on his own dry ones and rolled his hips.

Roy seemed to get the message. He didn’t break the kiss, but his hand left Ed’s body, coming back slick and cool. They damn near danced down his skin, stroked past his balls, smoothed along the sensitive skin under them. Ed could probably have come just from that if Roy had kept it up. But finally a gentle finger was pressing up against him, teasing the nerves around his entrance. Slow, so goddamn slow and careful, it pushed inside him. He whined into Roy’s mouth, fretfully pulling at the sheets still between his fingers. The stretch was barely there, but it had been forever since he’d last gone out with someone and the sensation was nearly brand new. It pulled out and came back, a leisurely rhythm that send shivers up his spine. Ed pushed into it, trying to encourage Roy to move faster, harder, to give him more.

When the finger returned with a partner, Ed was beyond ready. He didn’t let Roy take his sweet fucking time breaching him, instead jolting his hips up, forcing them deep and hard. A long groan escaped him, muffled against Roy. That’s what he wanted. Gentle-ass lovemaking could happen later, he wanted to feel this in the morning. Walk into his and Al’s apartment and not need to say a thing to embarrass the fuck out of Al because of how well Roy fucked him.

Huffing a laugh into the kiss, Roy obliged. His fingers withdrew only to immediately punch back in. They curled, searching, then pulled back to try a new angle. Ed was getting dizzy, the unrelenting waves of sensation dragging hot electricity through his veins. Each push in felt like Roy was claiming him, exploring him for the perfect place to plant his goddamn flag.

Ed nearly shouted when he found it. Sparks of white hot, burning pleasure rocketed up his spine, and he was only vaguely aware of gripping pale skin instead of silky sheets. Roy pulled his hand away, releasing him from that delicious torment. Slumping down onto the pillows, Ed found himself panting like he’d run a marathon. It was a miracle he hadn’t come from that. Though his patience for Roy’s caring treatment had officially hit zero.

He smirked up at Roy, watched him relax and smile back at him. Then he locked he knees around his waist and flipped them.

Now it was his turn to grin down at his flustered partner as Roy gasped, surrounded by pillows. Smug, Ed settled down, sitting just right to line up his ass with Roy’s cock. A grunt that almost sounded like his name was punched out of the breathless man under him as Roy’s hands snapped back to his hips.

“You weren’t moving fast enough, old man,” Ed taunted. “Now it’s my turn.”

Reaching behind him, Ed lined them up and slowly sunk down.

Fuck, the stretch burned. Ed shuddered as he felt every inch force his body to make room, to let that hot brand inside him. It was exactly what he’d been desperate for since that first kiss out in the cold.

Finally, Ed was all the way down. Roy’s fingers dug into his side, but didn’t try to control him. He looked like he couldn’t believe what was happening, like he thought he was dreaming Ed on his cock, and needed the contact for it to be real. Ed rolled his hips, not enough to move up, just to feel how deep Roy was.

“God, _Ed_ ,” Roy groaned, shuddering between his thighs. His abs were jumping, and Ed could feel the aborted movements under him.

It was a power trip like nothing else he’d experienced to bring Roy Mustang to helpless pleasure like this. And he could make it even better.

Carefully, making sure his knees were planted in the sheets securely, Ed rose a couple inches and dropped back down. His moan damn near harmonized with Roy’s, and this was already so good, he was damning the years they wasted before tonight. Roy’s cock was long and hard and so fucking hot, curved just right to press all of the most sensitive spots inside him. He lifted higher, more confident, more desperate, and fought with gravity, with his body, to gracefully lower himself, teasing them both with the slow glide. Before he got all the way, Roy’s hips jumped up to meet him, knocking him forwards and punching his breath out.

“ _Fuck_ , yes, Roy, do that again.” He braced his hands on the gleaming chest under him, rising for another thrust.

Roy didn’t disappoint, pulling him down and thrusting up into him at the same time, throwing sparks up his spine and liquid lust through his veins. A few more moves, and they’d settled into a near punishing rhythm, Ed rolling his up just to be pulled back as Roy shoved him down onto his cock. He couldn’t think through the fog of desire. He could feel his lungs working, knew he was panting, but it felt like he couldn’t get enough air, like the rush of Roy’s cock kept driving it out before it could reach his blood. Or maybe it was because his blood was boiling, rushing too fast and too hot through him for anything to function but his dick.

And, fuck, he was so hard, the only thing stopping him from coming the fact that if he did, then this would be over.

One of Roy’s hands slipped off his hip, sliding in. Long fingers wrapped themselves around him, and he jolted forward, arms collapsing at the sudden influx of pure _heat_. He wasn’t going to last, he was so close, all he could do was pant and burn and shake and gasp out what was hopefully Roy’s name. His heart was racing in his ears, sweat dripping in his eyes and blinding him, his hips grinding down, Roy so deep in him he didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget the feeling, and he was so fucking close, fucking hell-

He was pulled forwards into a messy kiss, more just blind mouthing and breathing in each other’s wet gasps than a proper kiss. Ed dropped down in Roy’s lap, unable to keep the rhythm without Roy’s hands on him, and his breath caught on a desperate stutter as Roy’s cock pressed just _perfectly_ into him, fireworks jolting through him as orgasm bulldozed him. He felt Roy pull him even closer, thought he heard Roy shout his name, but he was already being tugged under, exhaustion sweeping through him.

 

 

 

The next thing Ed knew, he was lying in bed, clean and under the covers. The lights were off, but he could still see Roy’s face in front of him. His eyes were closed, flickering under his eyelids like he was dreaming.

Did he fucking pass out? That’s embarrassing as _all hell_.

But that was certainly an orgasm worth passing out for, Roy was fucking _good_. Good at fucking. Whatever.

And was apparently adorable dreaming. Ed watched as Roy scrunched his nose up, curling tighter on his side and burying his face in his pillow, huffing. He thought he saw him mutter something, but couldn’t tell what it was. Almost without meaning to, Ed reached out and traced careful metal fingers along his cheek, charmed when Roy immediately relaxed and turned into his hand. He shuffled closer, close enough he could feel the heat Roy gave off.

Roy shifted, and Ed froze. He didn’t want to wake the man up. But Roy just draped his arm around Ed’s waist, pulling him close enough to cuddle.

“… _love…_ ”

The word escaped on a long sigh, and Ed tucked his face into Roy’s shoulder.

Yeah, he loved him, too.

 

 


End file.
